My family have been living off the land for over five generations breeding sheep for their wool on a remote farm out Mudgee way in the northern tablelands of NSW Australia.
Since 1860 we have produced some of the finest fleece in the state and living out here dealing with wild dogs attacking the livestock and flies that swarm around your face making being outside in the heat a complete misery.
It is almost Christmas 2020 and we are in the middle of a big drought and my daddy is struggling to water the sheep not to mention providing the precious liquid to the farmhouse.
All of the dams and waterholes are bone dry because it hasn’t rained out this way for over four years now and if it doesn’t arrive I am afraid that my daddy might have to sell the family farm and move into town that is about 200 kilometres away as the crow flies.
My name is Rodney Swain and I just turned ten years old, my family is hurting bad all because of the lack of water.
At school it is hard to concentrate when I am sad all of the time so every now and then I would wish that I could climb a giant ladder and reach up into the sky and squeeze the clouds until they cry but so far my wishes have gone unheard because when I get home the sun is still beating down baking the earth causing the once lush paddocks to turn brown which causes my daddy to buy feed for the sheep that only adds to the misery.
At night thunderstorms would gather turning the sky black with menace threatening to send down a torrent of rain and my heart would fill with joy as I waited for the rain drops to hit the corrugated roof on our house but just like always the clouds would soon disappear without unleashing a single drop.
The only sound that I heard that night was the sound of an old rusty air conditioner trying its best to keep the heat at bay.
My family really needs some rain to fill the water tanks, dams and creeks on our property but we aren’t the only ones suffering, every farmer in the state are battling to pay the bills and keep the wolves at bay.
I wish I could join two giant ladders together put them on top of three tractors and hopefully than I will be tall enough to reach up and squeeze the clouds until they cry a steady drizzle of rain.
Doesn’t God know that people on the land have suffered enough, all they want is a fair go and some bloody rain.
Every morning I wake up with my sheets drenched in sweat, why does summer have to be so hot?
I know that farmers rely on the sun to grow their crops to help feed the nation and provide their animals with grass to fill their stomachs but the last few years have been a living hell so please God give us some rain and I promise to be a good boy and help mummy with the dishes.
All we need is some precipitation to soak into the ground to help us keep our sheep alive and provide money to the farmers all over the region so they can feed their families and pay their suppliers.
For four years the country has been sweltering under heatwave conditions with the temperature again forecast to hit 43 degrees again tomorrow and the following weeks,
The weather lady on the TV predicts the weather with a smile on her face.
How can she smile when farmers all over are killing themselves because they can see no other way out?
All because the clouds refuse to yield.
Maybe if I join three giant ladders together put them on top of four tractors and park them on top of five barns I will be able to reach up and squeeze the clouds until they weep.
Another three months have passed and still the clouds refuse to budge.
All of the farmers around the region are strong working 16 hours a day seven days a week but this drought is a bastard and I believe that even the strongest will finally break if we don’t get any rain.
Maybe if I join four giant ladders together put them on top of five tractors that I will park on six barns that I stack on top of seven farmhouses than maybe I could stand up on tippy toe to reach up and squeeze the clouds until they burst.
Another month has passed without any rain.
Maybe if I join five giant ladders together put them on top of six tractors that I park on seven barns that I put on the roof of eight barns that I put on top of nine skyscrapers I can finally reach up and squeeze the clouds and make them cry a river.
All of my prayers and wishes have been ignored because still those arsehole clouds refuse to budge no matter how hard I squeeze.
Sorry about the swear word but I am extremely frustrated and please don’t tell mummy and daddy that I swore because then I would be sent to bed without any dessert and tonight we are having homemade apple pie.
That night I went to bed with a full belly but my heart was still heavy with sadness and it took me quite a while to fall asleep.
‘RODNEY’ I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard mummy hollering my name but I was even more startled to find myself on the roof of our farmhouse jumping up and down performing a rain dance.
‘Get down from there right this second young man or I will give you a hiding that you will never forget.’
I ignore my mother and begin to pray ‘Okay God this is your last fucking chance, if you don’t make it rain this second I will take you off my Christmas card list and I will also refuse to go to church for a whole year so get off your high horse and give the clouds a squeeze because they are right next to heaven so they should be in easy reach.
And do you know what?
The clouds turned black in anger and unleashed a torrent of rain that made me scurry back inside ‘Thank you God now you can go back and help other people in need.
Two months later.
Hey God me again, can you please stop the rain.
The area is completely flooded and our family home is almost under water so could you please stop what you are doing at the moment and tell the clouds that I am sorry for squeezing them so hard but enough is enough so please bring back the sunshine.
It hasn’t stopped raining for going on sixty days and I think I just saw Noah’s ark float by.
Please God we are desperate.
Yours Sincerely
Rodney Swain.
THE END.